Forgotten nights & whiskey breath
by dreamtolove
Summary: Toby Cavanaugh is dead. Spencer can't remember the exact details of the night, but she finds herself stumbling back into the open arms of Wren Kim.


A chill ran up Spencer Hastings' spine, causing her to momentarily lose balance. It surprised her when she was able to successfully grab onto a street lamp for support. Had that always been there? She was certain it wasn't there the last time she passed this street. 

_Wait._ Where was she? Trees lined the endless street, but it was far from suburbia. Maybe she'd gotten on the wrong bus. Had she even been on a bus? She couldn't remember anything.

This was not like her. She prided herself on always having the answer. It made her feel weak and uneasy because she hated not being in control. The simple thought almost caused her to hurl all over the sidewalk.

_Oh, God._

Was she drunk? Had she been drinking? It was all such a blur. She remembered meeting her parents and sister for the monthly _"I'm better than you dinner" _but then— Then it all went fuzzy, like that awful sweater she had worn for Christmas dinner.

_"Ugh," _she muttered and clutched onto the lamp again to keep herself steady. She felt awful; as if she had been tied to a railway and run over a thousand times by a train carrying a zoo full of animals.

Horrible metaphor. And yet she had always been so good at coming up with comparisons. She certainly compared herself enough to her sister to be considered an expert in the subject.

Melissa. Wait, where was Melissa? Where were her parents? Had they honestly left her like this? Had they not seen that she was struggling, gasping to keep a grip on reality?

Then she remembered. The loud bang that had deafened her and stopped her heart beating for a split second. The blood that had blinded her.

_Oh, no._

The blood that had lined her normally spotless living room. It had stained the cream carpet and splattered across the new wall paper that her mother had just chosen last fortnight.

_Toby. _

He had come for her. She had called for him and she had practically jumped into his perfectly muscle bound arms the second he appeared. The faint smell of varnish on his clothes and the musty scent of his aftershave. It clung to her, caressing her senses, forcing her to remember.

The pain that she had felt so deeply only a matter of hours ago. It had been unexpected when her father reached for the gun but it had brought her to her knees when he actually pulled the trigger.

Why had he done it? She couldn't for the life of her remember. Toby would never hurt her. He loved her. Had loved her. Maybe it was best to get used to the past tense. He was gone.

For so brief a moment he had been in her life, and it had been perfect. She had finally found her kindred spirit and now— Now that was gone. Everything good in her life had been destroyed. Maybe she should follow en suit. Clearly she brought nothing but misery to those around her and perhaps the world would be a better place without Spencer Hastings.

Her nails dug into her skin as she tried to focus on the present. But all the bad things she had done in her short life. All the mistakes she had made for someone so young.

She had ruined her sister's wedding by falling in love with her sister's fiance— Wren— Where was he now? He'd mentioned staying in Rosewood, he had practically begged her to come back to him. And when she was at her weakest, she had willingly fallen into his welcoming arms.

He was warm and he was whole and he had made her heart feel all fluttery. The kind of feeling that can only be described with a really corny movie quote.

But, she couldn't go to him.. Could she? Not like this… Not when she still had her ex lovers blood draped across her hands.

Part of her doubted that Wren had ever really loved her. She had assumed when he first left without so much as a note, that it had been some kind of sick and twisted game to him.

Bag both sisters. Make the youngest feel something she had never felt before, and then leaving her hanging.

He had come into her life just as quickly as he had left it. But he was back, wasn't he? And he had made his intentions clear the day he kissed her: She had always been much more than just another potential notch on his bedpost.

_Wren…. _

She craved his warm, whiskey breath against the tender skin of her neck. His sweaty palms against the small of her back. His English accent thick in her ear, whispering sweet nothings with every gasp.

There had to be a way to see him. Was she on his street? The rose bush seemed all too familiar and she was sure that his car was parked a couple of feet away from her.

"Wren…" she sighed, stumbling onto his apartment building door, pressing every button that she could find. Someone had to answer her frantic call.

When the door swung open, she quickly found her feet and led herself to his apartment.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's far from right. It's not even in the same category as 'sometimes acceptable', it's completely stupid and I am going to live to regret this." Spencer was babbling to herself as she tapped loudly against the chestnut wooden door.

There was a loud crash within the apartment followed by some cursing and more banging.

Was he with someone? It was probably a bad idea to come to him unannounced.. Especially after everything. She should go.

But why was she still standing there, tapping her fist feverishly against the door? It was the alcohol. It had to be. There was no other logical explanation.

Just as she turned on her heel to leave, the door pulled open and Wren appeared. He had shaving cream covering half of his face, the other was newly shaven. Spencer resisted the urge to touch his soft skin, instead she offered him a friendly smile.

"Spensuh?" Wren raised an eyebrow, obviously confused as to why she was standing in front of him, looking like she'd just been at a fancy dress party. Leaves from the trees that lined the street had fallen into her hair and then there was the dry blood that she hadn't bothered to wash off her hands.

Wren seemed to follow her gaze and in a second, his arms were wrapped tightly around her frail body. "What happened to you?" He inspected her hands, checking frantically for entry wounds - any sign of infection. When he was satisfied that the blood was not hers, he reluctantly surrendered her.

"What happened?" He tried again, putting his hand on the small of her back and rushing her into the apartment.

Before he closed the door, he slowly peaked his head out of the room. He had to be certain that no one had followed her. Something terrible had happened and even if she had caused it, he felt obligated to protect her. His hand nervously wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face as he turned to face her.

Spencer stared back blankly at him, her entire body shaken with fright.

_"Oh, Spensuh,"_ Instinctively, Wren pulled the patterned afghan from his couch and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. His hands lingered on her body and he carefully brushed the hair from her face.

"Is there anything I can get for you? How about some tea?" He kept an arm around her as he led her to the couch and helped her sit down.

She simply shook her head and hid her eyes from him. Suddenly, she was stone cold sober and this 'visit' no longer seemed like a good idea. Spencer hesitated for a moment, her eyes on the door. "I.. I should go.."

Wren bent down beside her, his hand on her forehead, checking her temperature. "Spensuh.. You're burning up.. And not in the way you usually are.." He tried to get a smile out of her with a corny joke but she didn't even move. Her eyes had frozen on the door.

The smirk fell from his face and he hesitated for a moment before placing his hand against her cheek.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."

Spencer firmly shook her head. "There was so much blood…. " The tears began to form in her eyes. She had to get out of here. She had to remember but not like this. Not with Wren surrounding her, clouding her better judgment. The afghan that he had wrapped around her smelled like him, it was the only thing keeping her from breaking down.

His hand slowly caressed her cheek and he offered her a concerned smile. "Did y—-" He stopped himself. He knew her better than to know she had not caused this. The blood that was on her hands, it was not spilled by her. "Do you remember what happened?" He moved then, resting on the arm chair; wanting to keep his distance but desperate to remain close to her. 

_"Toby…." _His name fell from her lips like a goodbye and the sobs started. She began to shake violently as Wren desperately tried to comfort her.

He lifted her onto his lap, stroking her hair with delicate fingers. He couldn't stand to see her like this. "_Shhh,_ Spencer… I'm here. I'm right here."

Her hand gripped tightly to his back, clutching onto his clothes. She needed to feel him closer. So much closer. She wanted him inside of her, to make her better. To make all of this go away.

As if he could sense what she was thinking, he slowly pulled away, kissing her forehead as he hesitantly unwrapped his arms from her body. _"Spensuh…"_

Their lips became one. Neither knew who had made the first move but it didn't matter. Before Spencer could pull away and regret the fact that his lips were pressed to hers, he carefully lifted her, steadying her legs around his waist.

They were almost at the bedroom when the phone rang. So close to finally being together.

The first call went unanswered but when the phone rang again, Wren reluctantly pulled away from her, and rushed for the phone.

Spencer kept her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, gently kissing her way down his neck. She didn't care about anything else. Whatever had happened with Toby — He was passed saving. Wren was alive and he was with her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him and that idea made her heart beat as if she had been given a shot of adrenaline.

"Mrs Hastings'?" Wren spoke deeply into the phone, breathing hard against the receiver. His eyes widened slightly and his grip around Spencer loosened.

At the mention of her mother, Spencer pulled back, her eyes wide with fear. "What? What is it?" She managed, he simply stared at her; an empty expression upon his face.

He looked startled. As if he had just been hit by an unseen car. "The police…. They think I killed him… "

Spencer wasn't sure what happened but the next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her head in a spin. H

is arms were gripping her shoulders and he was shaking her.

"They think _I killed _Toby."


End file.
